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The Elliotts Come Home Chapter 2
“Have you ever thought of selling your home?” Megan had asked the question so many times in the last hour, it was beginning to sound meaningless to her ears. So far no one at the reception had answered in the affirmative.
Linda Flanders laughed long and hard. “Sell my home? The one that’s been in my family over eighty years? Are you pulling my leg?”
“No.” Megan shook her head. “Just looking for business,” she said truthfully. “It’s hard to be a realtor without any listings.”
Linda sobered up and patted her on the shoulder. “I can see that. Shouldn’t have laughed at you, I guess.”
“It’s all right.” She hadn’t taken it personally.
“Let me think. Do I know anyone who’s considering a move?” The older woman let her gaze wander over the crowd. “I can’t say I do,” she said after a long moment. “I’m sorry, honey. If I hear anything I’ll let you know.”
“Thank you.” If only she had the time to wait, Megan had no doubt Linda would pass on any tidbits of information she happened to hear. So would half a dozen other folks she’d talked to—if anyone in Chance Creek ever decided to sell.
Linda moved on and Megan trailed over to the drinks table. Might as well enjoy herself if she was going to face Lainie empty-handed tomorrow.
“Evening,” a well-dressed man said when she reached for a bottle of beer from one of the galvanized buckets of ice holding a selection of drinks. “Let me get that for you.” He closed his hand around the beer, lifted it from the ice, popped off the top and handed it to her. He was a tall man with a hawk-like face, his sharp nose just on the verge of being too long, his blue eyes too piercing for comfort. He had a businessman’s close-cropped style of hair and he wore a suit, in contrast to most men who’d shown up for the wedding in their best jeans.
“Thank you.” Megan had never seen him before and she wondered if he was related to the bride or the groom. “Are you considering selling your home any time soon?” The question popped out automatically and she bit her lip. She didn’t even know where this man lived.
“Nope,” he said with a smile. “I just moved here. Bought the Nelson property.”
Interesting. The Nelson property was huge. Some realtor in town had made out well. “That’s near Elliott Ridge, isn’t it?”
His smile faded a little. “That’s right. I’m Blake Warrington. Glad to meet you.”
“You, too.” She shook his hand. “That’s not really cattle country up there. What will you do with the land?”
“I’m breaking ground on my resort next month. Three hundred rooms. Golf. Trail rides. Cross country skiing. The works.”
“Three hundred rooms?” That was going to be a huge operation. “Who was your realtor?” She didn’t remember Lainie mentioning any such deal and Lainie talked about every real estate transaction that happened in the county.
“No realtor. Negotiated it directly with Ed Nelson. No sense complicating matters.”
Great. Another do-it-yourself-er who didn’t see the worth of a real estate agent. That was becoming more common these days, which made finding listings that much harder.
“Would you like to dance?”
Megan nearly choked on the sip of beer she’d just taken. “Dance?” The invitation was the last thing she’d expected from this polished stranger.
“That’s right.” His smile broadened again. “You. Me. Out on the dance floor.” He nodded to the temporary wooden floor Cindy’s brothers had built for the reception in one of the large tents they’d put up for the occasion.
“I… uh…sure?”
He took the beer from her hand, set it on the table and led the way. Megan followed, and when she caught Cindy’s eye, she shrugged.
Cindy made a show of winking and nodding approvingly. Megan was sure she’d hear about this from her friend later. Was everyone looking? This was as bad as the time she’d had a speaking part in the play in eighth grade. She wasn’t one to push herself forward and hated when she was the center of attention. Still, when Blake took her into his arms and began to waltz her around the dance floor with the other couples, she had to admit it was kind of nice.
“Have you lived here long?” he asked.
“All my life.”
“Ah, a small-town girl. I’m from Detroit, myself.”
“How’d you end up buying property here?”
“I did an analysis of my goals and decided that I would be happier being a big fish in a small pond than a small fish in a big pond.” He tightened his arms around her and suddenly Megan found herself in a much more intimate embrace than she’d been prepared for. This close to the man she could smell the alcohol on Blake’s breath. One of his hands slipped lower on her back, pressing her against him. She reached around and tugged it upwards, wriggling a little to create some space between them. What had been nice only a moment ago was suddenly quite uncomfortable.
“Did you spend much time in the area before you made your purchase?” She didn’t like the way he’d characterized Chance Creek as a small pond and she didn’t like the way he was taking advantage of this dance, either, refusing to read her cues that she didn’t like how familiar he was being.
“Long enough. I’m a decisive man, Megan. When I decide I want something, I go get it.”
Was it her imagination or did his fingers dig into her skin a little bit as he made the declaration? Megan tried to pull back but found herself caged in the circle of his arms.
“Blake.”
“We’re just dancing,” he said lightly, but he didn’t slacken his grip on her and she sensed that he meant to make her make a scene if she wanted to end this dance early. Her need to escape battled with her desire not to make a fool out of herself. After all, they were in public. He couldn’t do anything.
“I find that it takes a long time to really get to know a place,” Megan said, as if the situation was normal and she wasn’t trying desperately to figure out how to get away. His tight grip was beginning to make her feel claustrophobic. His cologne, which had seemed subtle and masculine when they met at the drinks table now overwhelmed her, along with the liquor on his breath. “There are all sorts of customs and secrets you don’t unearth until you’ve lived there awhile.”
“I like secrets,” Blake said. “What’s yours? Got a boyfriend? I didn’t see any hanging around.”
Was this her chance?
“Yes, I do have a boyfriend,” she lied, her voice carrying farther than she’d meant it to. Several people looked their way, and she was sure the color was rising in her cheeks. But if Blake was any kind of gentleman, he’d back off now.
“Oh, yeah? Where is he?” Blake swung one arm out expansively and Megan took the opportunity to jerk out of his grip. She turned on her heel and stalked away, done with this encounter, but Blake followed her. “I said, where is he?” he repeated. Now more people were looking. Megan couldn’t believe this. Hadn’t she made it clear she wasn’t interested?
She wasn’t going to answer him. She owed him no explanations. When his fingers closed around her wrist, she whirled around to tell him so.
Someone else got their first.
“I’m right here,” Gage Elliott said. “So why don’t you run along and bother someone else.”
Blake let go of Megan’s wrist and looked Gage up and down. “If you’re her boyfriend, what are you doing letting her dance with other men?”
“Megan does what she wants.” Gage didn’t back down. Megan couldn’t believe he knew her name. Had he asked about her? “And it’s clear she doesn’t want you.”
“Whatever.” Blake lifted his hands and backed away a step. “I was doing her a favor dancing with her, anyway, since no one else wanted to.”
Megan absorbed that blow and was still trying think of a snappy retort when Gage took her hand.
“I want to.” He led her back toward the dance floor, leaving Blake to look after them sourly.
“You don’t have to do this,” Megan sputtered as Gage took her in his arms.
“I know,” he assured her. “Like I said, I want to.”
She couldn’t think of an answer to that.